I Understand
by TurtleGirl
Summary: A Looking for Group story set in ancient Gamlon. Staying up with a feverish Tavor leads to a rare moment of understanding between father and son. Reviews are hugely appreciated, good or bad.


**I Understand**

**A/N:** My second LFG fic focuses on Tavor and gives a little insight into his past and his family. Of course, it's all pure speculation and may turn out to be AU, depending on what we find out in future comics. ;) Everything belongs to the good people at Blind Ferret. Hope you like it!

The sun was beginning to set and it was high time for little princesses to be asleep. Unfortunately, no one had bothered to mention that to Princess Leena. The king of Gamlon sighed and slowly walked the fussy six-month-old up and down the corridors of his castle. His plan had been to keep moving until she finally fell asleep, but so far, it didn't seem to be working. The baby sneezed and her father resolved to take one more lap around.

----

Tavor opened his eyes and let out a groan. That had to have been the shortest nap of his life. It was nearly winter time, and cold and flu season had already arrived in full force. Several of the soldiers were ill, and there was no doubt in Tavor's mind that he was going to be the latest victim. Ignoring his aching muscles, he forced himself to sit up. Tavor had hoped that taking an hour to lie down before his watch would help get his energy up a bit, but now if anything, he felt worse. He shivered hard as he pushed his blanket off, yet his face felt as though it was on fire. Grimacing, the knight reached for his boots. It was going to be a long night.

----

"There now," the king smiled at his daughter. "You're feeling better, aren't you?" Leena yawned and inserted one tiny thumb into her mouth. Tenacity seemed to be paying off. He should probably put her to bed now that she had settled down. The king turned down the east wing towards the nursery, passing the officers' quarters as he did so. One of the doors was opened slightly, and the king could hear a familiar sounding cough coming from inside. His son.

Tavor was sitting on the bed, slowly pulling his boots on. He seemed not to notice his father standing in the doorway. His dark hair was disheveled and hanging in his face, and his movements were sluggish. Apparently, he had just woken up.

The king cleared his throat and Tavor looked up, startled.

"Are you well?" The younger man nodded, perfectly aware that he did not look very convincing.

"Yes, Sire." He noticed for the first time that the king was holding his sister.

"Is the baby alright?" The king regarded his now sleeping daughter.

"She's been a bit fussy tonight. It would seem that half of the people in this castle have come down with the same cold. It has taken me over an hour just to get her to sleep." Tavor coughed into his arm and nodded. He was visibly shivering as he pulled on his cold, chain mail chest piece over the two thick undershirts he already wore. Stepping closer, the king could see that his son's face was flushed.

"Apparently, Leena is not the only one who could use some sleep."

"I've slept as much as I can tonight, Sire. It is my turn to keep watch in the guard tower."

"If you are the healthiest of our soldiers, then I fear the castle's defenses may be lacking." Tavor sighed and made a feeble attempt to comb through his hair with his fingers.

"I have a headache, Sire. That does not mean I am unable to attend to my duties." The king shifted Leena to one shoulder before reaching out to feel Tavor's forehead.

"You are burning up." Tavor was silent for a moment as he pulled on his gloves.

"I am only needed on watch for a few hours tonight. I can rest afterwards."

"But will you last those few hours? You look as though you barely have the strength to dress yourself." Tavor's eyes narrowed.

"I am not a child. I am fully aware of my capabilities." The king cast a wary glance at Leena before responding. So far, she was still asleep.

"It is not my intention to treat you like a child," he was careful to keep his voice low. "However, I am still your father and I am telling you that you are not going out there to stand for hours in the cold when you already have a fever. Having you catch pneumonia is not going to help anyone."

Tavor scowled and began to strap on his scabbard. "With all due respect, _Sire_," he said through gritted teeth. "I am not setting aside my discomfort in order to impress anyone. I don't feel well. In fact, I would love nothing better than to crawl right back under the covers and sleep for a week. However, unlike my comrades, I do not have that sort of luxur--!" Tavor was suddenly cut off by a violent coughing fit. Gripping his chest, the knight sank back onto the cot and looked up at his father. The king's expression was a strange mixture of anger and concern. Tavor winced. He knew he had gone too far.

"Forgive me, Sire. I --"

"You are not yourself tonight." The king softened and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "I know you feel that you need to set an example, but you cannot sacrifice your health in order to save face."

"What would you have me do?" Tavor asked wearily.

"I need to take your sister back to the nursery." The king was hugely relieved that the child had not woken. "You are getting back into bed. Everyone else is taking the time they need to recover from this illness. You can do the same." Before Tavor could respond, his father turned and carried the baby out of the room. The knight sighed.

----

Half and hour later, the king returned to his son's quarters carrying a basin of cold water and a mug of tea. Tavor was lying on his side, facing the wall. He did not move as the king set the items down on the nightstand and pulled a chair to his bedside. Tavor coughed weakly and his father placed a hand on his back.

"I think you had better drink this." There was a pause before Tavor slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. The king handed him the tea and Tavor quietly thanked him before taking a sip.

"Try to inhale the steam. It will help your breathing." Refusing to meet his father's eyes, Tavor obediently held the mug in front of his face and took a few deep breaths. Sure enough, the aching in his chest began to subside.

"I didn't think you were asleep."

"No?"

"It is fairly easy to tell when you are." Curiosity took over and Tavor raised an eyebrow in question. The king smiled.

"You snore, son." Tavor's eyes widened slightly.

"I…Really?" His father chuckled.

"I'm afraid so." This time, Tavor had to smile too.

"That would explain why my bunkmates were so happy for me when I was promoted and moved out of the barracks."

Tavor drank and for the first time, noticed that the tea had an odd taste. This confirmed his earlier suspicion that his father must have gone and harassed the healers for some herbal remedy to put in it. The liquid soothed his throat and he could feel his body aches slowly melting away. The king seemed to read Tavor's thoughts.

"Perhaps if you were not so stubborn, you could have sought out the healers yourself". Tavor frowned.

"Half of the beds in the infirmary are occupied. I assumed that they would be overrun with requests for medication. There was no reason for me to add to the burden."

"Tavor, winter is coming. The healers anticipate epidemics such as this and they stock up accordingly," he shook his head in frustration. "In other words, there were plenty of potions left for you. That draught you just finished will have cured your fever by morning." Feeling like a complete fool, Tavor tiredly rubbed his eyes.

"I am beginning to think that I make a terrible patient." The king gave a deep sigh.

"No worse than I am, I suppose. Lie down, now. You need your rest."

There was obviously no point in arguing. Tavor set the empty cup on the nightstand and settled back under the covers, feeling pleasantly warm for the first time all day. Thank the gods that his rank allowed him his own room. He would never live it down if his friends could see this.

The king dunked the washcloth into the basin of water, wrung it out and began dabbing at Tavor's forehead with it. In spite of his best efforts to stay alert, the prince felt his eyelids begin to droop.

The king was suddenly reminded of a similar moment between the two of them, more than twenty years earlier. Gods, had it been so long ago? As if it were only yesterday, he could remember his infant son, crying because he was cutting his first teeth. His exhausted wife had passed the baby to him, in hopes that she might be allowed to sit down in quiet for just a moment.

The king had not known what to do, and apparently neither had Tavor. The baby was unaccustomed to being held by his father and for a long moment, the two simply stared at each other. Tavor's dark eyes welled up and the king fought back a sense of panic as he awkwardly shifted the boy in his arms. Unsure of what else to do, he brought a hand to the side of his son's face and stroked his cheek. By the time the queen returned a few minutes later, her son was snuggled into her husband's chest, sound asleep.

The boy was a man now, an experienced soldier with prematurely graying hair. Still, seeing him like this it was hard not to remember that small child. Now, those same dark eyes blinked open and looked up at him.

"Sire, what about the tower? Who is going to take my place if I'm here?" The king sighed again.

"You needn't worry about it tonight. I went down to the barracks and let your healthier colleagues know that you're not well."

If he had had an ounce more energy, Tavor would have bolted upright. As it was, all he could do was lift his head off of the pillow and stare at his father in horror.

"You…what did they say?"

"Centa volunteered to stay on guard for a few extra hours tonight. He and the others send their best." Tavor said nothing and the king put a hand on his arm.

"You have friends, Tavor. They understand." The prince finally nodded in resignation and sank bank into the bedding.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, Sire. Thank you." His face didn't feel nearly as hot, and when the king touched the back of a hand to his cheek, he looked mildly relieved.

"The medicine seems to be working, but you still feel very warm. I am afraid that I do not quite possess the same talent for healing that your mother had."

"Mother was a professional," Tavor was smiling slightly. "I'd say you are doing well for a beginner."

"Thank you. I _am_ doing my best."

"Still," Tavor mused. "There is one difference in your methods, Sire."

"Oh?"

"Whenever Mother suspected that I wasn't feeling well, she would always check for fever by kissing me on the forehead. I must admit my relief that you do not share that particular habit." The king laughed.

"You are welcome." His expression turned serious. "I know how you must miss her." Tavor frowned, sadly.

"It has already been six months, yet it still feels…wrong without her." The king dipped the cloth back into the cool water and positioned it to rest on Tavor's brow.

"Losing her has been difficult for all of us, I think. The two of you were especially close." Tavor closed his eyes and nodded.

"I regret knowing that Leena will not have the opportunity to know her, or her love."

"Then you and I will simply have to love Leena more. Protect her the way your mother always tried to protect you."

"She was very protective, wasn't she?" Tavor said quietly. "It mattered not if I was two or twenty-two, she always worried."

"She loved you dearly". The king sat back in his chair and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I remember your mother was terribly upset once you became old enough to begin your military training. For a long time, I think she resented me for being too hard on you."

Holding the washcloth in place, Tavor turned on his side to face his father. This was news to him. "Mother understood that I have more of a responsibility than the rest of the men," he said. "She never expressed displeasure in front of me."

"Of course she didn't. She knew better than to interfere with tradition," the king looked meaningfully at Tavor. "But I know it was not easy for her to watch her only child train in combat. Still, Tavor, in the end I believe she came to understand that it was not easy for me, either."

"I am not resentful of my duties, Sire. I know what is expected of me."

"I know Tavor, and for that, you have always made me proud." Tavor swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. The king simply nodded at him.

"You know all too well the burden that comes with being part of a royal family. You will rule, one day. You will make difficult, sometimes terrible decisions. You will send your sons into battle, possibly --" the king made a choked noise, "-- possibly to their deaths. My hope for you, my boy, is that one day you will understand what it means to be both a king and a father…" Tavor was staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

The king leaned in closer and placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "And I hope that someday you might forgive me for passing that burden to you." With nothing more to say, he reached for Tavor's blanket and moved to cover him up.

"Father…" Tavor said suddenly, catching his wrist. "There is nothing to forgive." The king nodded again and tucked the blanket around Tavor's shoulders, eyes damp.

"Do you think you can get some sleep now?"

"Absolutely not." The king raised his eyebrows, only to realize that Tavor was smiling impudently at him. He returned the smile.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to keep you awake with my ramblings."

"Ramble away, Sire," Tavor mumbled, closing his eyes. "I'm listening."

"Right." The king replaced the compress one last time and lightly smoothed Tavor's hair back, out of his eyes.

"Rest well, son". The sound of light snoring answered him. Smiling, the king stood and gathered up the mug and the water. After looking his sleeping son over one last time, the king leaned down, moved the washcloth and lightly kissed Tavor on the forehead. He froze as the prince yawned and murmured something in his sleep.

"Hmm, g'night Mom." The king stifled a laugh and quietly left the room, blowing out the lantern as he went.

In the darkness, Tavor opened his eyes and frowned in confusion. _Wait a minute…_


End file.
